Alien Fortress
by New Level Darkness
Summary: The team is relocated to outer space with a mission. Will they be able to complete it and uncover why they were chosen, or will its importance dwindle away with the coming of a new threat?
1. Introduction

Well, here we go, guys. (Originally posted on TF2chan, just putting it here for kicks)

* * *

Crater was a small base. No nearby civilization, no one to fight, no fighting allowed, period. Up in Crater, BLU didn't exist. Hell, it was easy to forget the rest of the world existed up there. Crater was a maintenance base and it was utterly unremarkable, apart from the fact that it was located directly on planet RED, outer space.

"Why the hell do they need us up there, huh? We should be down here, fightn' BLUs," Scout protested.

"They need us to take care of their equipment for a little while," Engineer explained, taking his confused teammates' faces in stride. "It's only temporary."

"The runt is right," Soldier said, ignoring Scout's indignant, "Hey!" "We are soldiers! Men of the battlefield! I refuse to become some sort of _maintenance lackey_!"

"These are our orders, Soldier," Spy interjected. "You would do well to obey them."

"But piss, gettn' relocated to_ space_? Seems a bit drastic, don't it?" Sniper muttered with a frown.

Demoman slapped him heartily on the back and took a large swig of scrumpy. "Aye, but that's because you're not thinkn' of it as an adventure."

"Da, vill be fun!"

"Mmfmph!"

"Vat is it ve are supposed to be taking care of again?" Medic asked.

"Some sort a missile launchn' contraption, I reckon," Engineer said, grinning. "M'not entirely sure. I helped design the base and the ship that'll be takn' us up there, but not the machine itself. I figure that sort of stuff is top secret." Several raised eyebrows were traded across the table, but no one objected. The general acceptance of their new mission came as a relief to Engineer, since he had been appointed the task of breaking it to them and hadn't expected it to be easy.

"So what exactly do we hafta do?" Scout asked. He was tapping his foot against the floor with impressive speed, much to the annoyance of those sitting around him.

"Well, according to the gal on the phone, it's real simple," Engineer said. He reached into his overalls pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper. Despite what a simple job it was supposed to be, their informant had suggested for him to write the details down, lest he forget. Engineer had doubted something so important would slip his mind, but it never hurt to be cautious. Now, he looked down at his folded piece of graph paper and was secretly glad that he had taken her advice.

"Says here we need to check up on the machinery once a day at a certain time," Engineer said, lifting his goggles to his forehead. "Make sure she's runnin' alright, put on the right settings, 'n no malfunctions. We're to be temporarily replacin' the group that's usually up there. Somethin' about them takin' their sick leave."

"What, all at once?" Scout interrupted, his foot beginning to tap faster. "I bet they caught some sort of space disease or something stupid. Haha, serves them right for bein' all geeky and in space and... and bein' space geeks."

"You do realize what you are implying, don't you?" Spy questioned. He smirked and took a long drag on his cigarette as Scout's eyes suddenly widened in realization.

"Aw, shit, that means we're next!"

Sniper, sent over the edge by Scout's quickening foot tapping, reached over and swatted him across the top of his head, scowling.

"Shut yer gob about this space disease," he snapped. "I ain't been 'alfway 'round the world and I 'ave enough sense to know you're just bein' paranoid. Go to hell, Spy, you're just as bad for egging him on," he added in response to Spy's snickering.

"Hate to break it to you, son, but Sniper's right," Engineer chuckled. "Anyway, as I was saying, they're not sure how long we'll be needed up there. Could be a few days, could be a few weeks." When he looked up from the paper, he was met with several troubled frowns.

"A few weeks in space? Oh sure, that's no problem. Except I'll be bored outta my freakn' mind!" Scout said.

"Whtt rrbht mrr trrvrr shrrs?" Pyro asked.

"If I can't bring me scrumpy," Demoman slurred, "'m not goin'."

"Don't you worry about any o' that, fellas," Engineer said, raising his voice above the concerned murmurs. "She said it was alright for us to each bring a few personal items." When Scout opened his mouth again, Engineer hurriedly added, "Items like a baseball and a bat."

"Hell yes!"

"Mmd mm fmfhmr?"

"Sorry, Py, what was that?" Engineer asked.

"The flamethrower, laborer," Spy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh. Well, sure, I don't see why not."

Pyro hummed what Engineer assumed was a satisfied response before leaning back in his chair, hands rested contentedly over his stomach.

"Alright then, that's about it," Engineer concluded as he tucked the paper back into his pocket. "Any questions?"

"Ja, I vas vondering vun zing," Medic said. "Vhere has Soldier gone?" At once, all eyes shifted to Soldier's seat, which was now no more than an empty chair.

"Huh," Engineer murmured. "Well ain't that the million dollar question."

"Oh, you didn't notice?" Spy drawled, smirking as usual. "He left some time ago, after you mentioned the object of our mission being top secret."

"Hell," Engineer grunted. "Alright, while I go 'n find him, the rest of you might as well go get packed."

The team uttered noises of general agreement as they rose from the table in unison and filed out of the conference room before each heading off in separate directions. Heavy and Medic went side by side towards the infirmary, Sniper made a beeline for the loft, and Spy cloaked before slinking off God knew where. Everyone else hurried for their rooms- everyone except Engineer. He had someone to find.

_Really_, he thought as he began to scour the halls, _This is probably just another case of Soldier overreacting. The man _does_ have the tendency to blow things out of proportion, after all._ Still, something quivered in Engineer's gut as he searched. To the team, maybe, Soldier was a crazy old man with a war complex but to Engineer, he was something else, something sane. And sometimes, he could be the sanest of them all. Engineer just hoped that now wasn't one of those times.

"Soldier?" Engineer called. He opened one of the cafeteria doors a crack, poked his head in, and was surprised to find Soldier sitting at the far end of the table, head tilted down. Engineer let himself in and cautiously sat down across from him. He let a few beats of silence pass before saying, "Somethin' on your mind?" Soldier shifted slightly, giving a noncommittal grunt. At first, Engineer thought that was all he was going to get out of him, but when he did speak, Engineer almost wished that he hadn't.

"I don't like it," Soldier said softly. "The base is wrong. The mission is wrong. This is _not_something we should be doing, Engie."

"I know, Soldier," Engineer said, leaning forward slightly. "I know you want to be down here fightn', but we-"

He flinched when Soldier suddenly slammed his fist down on the table.

"No, it's not the fighting!" he snarled. "This has _nothing_to do with _fighting_."

"Then what is it?" Engineer said, trying to keep calm. "What's the problem?"

Soldier leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and muttered, "I don't like it." Engineer heaved a sigh.

"C'mon, Soldier, I'm tryin' to help you here. Now, you can tell me what you don't like about it, or I can leave and you can go pack your bag. Either way, we _are_leavin' tomorrow afternoon, whether you and I have come to an understandin' or not." He paused before continuing in a softer tone. "But I really would like it to be the former. What d'you say, pardner?" He offered Soldier a friendly smile, but the other man's frown barely lifted before sinking back into a grimace.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he said over Engineer's frustrated sigh.

"You should get ready for tomorrow, alright?" Engineer muttered. He rose from the table.

"This is wrong, Engie, you'll see!" Soldier called after him. "And then you won't like it, either!"

Engineer exited the cafeteria and let the doors slam shut behind him, effectively drowning out the rest of Soldier's ill-tempered speech.

Coming from Soldier, this was a typical reaction: Shouting about things, refusing to explain exactly what might be ailing him- but he had never questioned orders like this before, and that was the disconcerting part.

_He's probably just overreacting again,_ Engineer thought wearily, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes. _Nothing to worry about._


	2. Chapter 1

The next afternoon came with startling speed and went with the team aboard RED's space shuttle. At first, Engineer had been eager to give them the "grand tour" but upon realizing they were ungraciously locked in the passenger compartment, he decided to pull out a map of Crater instead.

"Anyone want to get a feel for her layout before we land?" he asked. He had to admit, it didn't surprise him when Heavy, Medic, and Spy were the only ones to oblige him. He suspected that Sniper would have joined them too, if he hadn't been asleep.

Pyro, Scout, and Demoman, on the other hand, had occupied themselves by staring out the only window in the room. With their heads bunched so close together, Engineer couldn't quite see how much distance the ship had made so far, but he suspected they still had a way to go.

Usually, being able to experience technology he helped develop like this would make the long distance trip a good thing, but with Soldier along for the ride, this was not the case. The situation had become more tolerable after Engineer had threatened to leave his shovel behind if he didn't stop shouting, but Soldier had been left every right to brood and mutter and he was taking advantage of it. Huddled as far away from the rest of the team as he could manage, Soldier was sulking up a storm, grunting "I still don't like it" and clutching his shovel like a madman. Still, Engineer supposed he preferred moodiness to ramming a hole through the hull and launching them all into space.

Not that it wouldn't take a lot more than a severely disgruntled mercenary to punch through the ship's wall. Engineer himself had ascertained that she could withstand a few hits from any stray meteoroids or debris. All that extra bulk on the outside wasn't much to look at, though, so he had tried to make up for that with the interior.

The passenger cabin was a decently sized rectangular room, painted shades of silver to give it that technologically advanced feel. Lining the longer sides were two thick benches, one of which was split to allow the door that led to the rest of the ship. Luggage compartments faced each other in the two shorter walls. A single square window was nestled in the wall directly across from the door, somewhere behind Scout, Demoman, and Pyro's heads. All in all, Engineer thought that it was pleasing to the eye- a job well done- despite the tin pipes and hanging wires left visible lining the ceiling panel and tucked under the benches. Pretty, sure, but not comfortable; how Sniper had managed to fall asleep all sprawled out like that was beyond Engineer.

"Vell, let's hear it, zen," Medic said grumpily. Ever since that morning, he'd been in a foul mood, much to everyone's bemusement. Engineer had informed him of Crater's infirmary, but even the information that he'd be able to use it as he saw fit couldn't coax more than a "Zat is nice" out of him. If Heavy, who was rarely seen outside of the doctor's presence, knew what was troubling him, he certainly wasn't letting on.

"No need to be sour, Doc," Engineer said, holding his hands out placatingly. He took Medic's glare with a good-natured chuckle before spreading the detailed map out across his lap and beginning. "There's really only a few areas you fellas need to be worryn' about. Crater's made up mostly of equipment rooms, where the machinery runs its course. I know my way around those so as long as you got me while we're out doin' the checkups, you'll be fine. Now I doubt it, but you _might_ need to know about Central Command, which is right here," – he pointed to a smallish room on the left side of the map- "This here is where you'd go if you ever needed to get in contact with RED back home. You can also make use of the intercom, which is connected to the rest of the base. Of course, each room has its own intercom so gettin' in contact with everyone else, no matter where they're at, will only be a matter of pushin' a button and talkn' into the microphone. We clear so far?"

"Oui," Spy said. He was looking positively bored, but Engineer had enough experience to know that he was listening raptly; knowing where things were inside Crater would put him ahead of the class, so to speak.

"Vat about food?" Heavy asked.

"I was just gettn' to that," Engineer said with a grin. This time, his finger landed on a small rectangle near the center of the map, marked "cafeteria." "This is where they keep the food. It's called the cafeteria but it's really no more than a big cupboard. Sorry, Heavy." Heavy's hopeful expression fell into a disappointed frown before he shook his head and smiled with understanding.

"Nyet, is fine," he said. Medic patted him on the shoulder and for one optimistic moment, Engineer thought that maybe he'd managed to shake off that gloom- at least until the grimace returned to his face.

"But ve vill be able to make sandviches, da?" Heavy asked, hopeful once again.

"But Heavy," Medic murmured, "Vat about ze sandviches you brought vis you?"

"They vill not last forever," Heavy said with a shrug. Medic seemed to accept that answer, but Spy was not so gracious.

"Please, fat man," he scoffed, "Considering _sandwiches_ are all you thought to bring with you, they will indeed last forever if you space them out correctly." He blew out a puff of smoke before muttering, "Spare us the horror of eating them all at once."

"Gosh, Heavy, is that really all you brought?" Engineer asked. He shouldn't have been surprised- this was probably just another example of Heavy being Heavy- but bringing food to a base that was already supposed to be stocked wasn't exactly practical. Engineer would have been less surprised to hear that Sasha had tagged along.

"I did not think I vould need anything else," Heavy said simply. They left it at that.

Though he didn't voice it, Engineer himself had thought something similar just that morning. Armed with no more than a few family photos plus the clothes he usually wore and then some, he had probably packed lighter than Heavy had, which put him in no position to judge how many sandwiches would be accompanying them.

"Anyway," Engineer continued, "The cafeteria might not be all that but the hub is, and it's a good deal more important. Now, the hub is smack dab in the middle of the base and it's connected to darn near everything. It's right next to the cafeteria and the crew's quarters, where y'all are gonna be sleepin'. Central Command 'n the med bay are just down the hall. You lookin' forward to _that_ yet, Doc?" he added with a grin.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Medic said flatly. A beat of silence passed while _everyone_ felt a little put off. Engineer was about to finish with a discouraged recap when the doctor sighed and said, "I must apologize to you, Herr Engineer. I am afraid I haven't been myself." Engineer couldn't help but find the weariness in his voice to be strangely jarring.

"It is not Doktor's fault," Heavy said softly, resting one of his large hands on Medic's thigh in understanding. He turned to Engineer. "Doktor is just nervous."

"Well, would you like to talk about it?" Engineer offered somewhat hesitantly.

"If we are through discussing the new base, I will have to miss out on this little heart to heart," Spy said suddenly, scrutinizing each of them respectively.

"Go on, get out of here, then," Engineer said. Spy left them with a semi-polite "Gentlemen," but Engineer didn't take his eyes off him until he took a seat next to Sniper, who was still fast asleep. Though he had just developed a small amount of concern for Sniper's well-being, he turned his attention back to Medic. He knew it wasn't polite to say so, but he sincerely hoped that the doctor wasn't interested in crying on his shoulder. This was their _Medic_, who was perfectly sane in a scary sort of way. Engineer wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was about Crater that was bad enough to get him riled up.

But Medic shook his head, and the relief Engineer felt almost stirred up some guilt in him.

"Zank you, but nein," Medic said. "Zis is somezing I must deal vis on my own."

"You can tell me, Doktor," Heavy offered.

"Danke, but I vill be fine."

That confirmed Engineer's suspicions, then. Heavy was out of the loop.

_Ah, well,_ Engineer thought, _S'probably just some doctor business. I reckon the lot of us wouldn't understand it anyway._

"So you wanna hear more about that infirmary I told you about?"

"Ja, I vould like zat."

He felt retarded thinking it, but space was the prettiest thing Scout had ever seen. Bunches of stars shone like little pinpricks of light in the distance and waves of colors wove around them like ribbons. Where the clusters of stars thinned out, the colors and lights faded until there was nothing; just blackness. It was sort of terrifying to realize how small the Earth was in comparison to all of this _nothing_, but Scout couldn't look away. He didn't really want to, anyway.

"Man, who knew there was all this empty space out here," Scout said, his nose pressed against the window.

"They don't call it 'space' for nothin', boyo," Demo chuckled.

"Hssts prrtr," Pyro admitted, "Bhtt nrrr frr."

"'Course not, there's no wood or nothin' to burn."

"Don't be stupid, lad," Demo scolded. "It's 'cause there's no air, or somethin'. I think..."

"Yeah, well tha's stupid."

"Bhtt hrs rrht! Krrdv."

Air or no air, it was still nice to look at. Scout wanted to try that "zero gravity" thing he'd heard about, but he doubted he'd get the chance. If he did, he _really_ doubted that anyone would let him. But since when did he let the other guys boss him around? He didn't, that's when. First opportunity he got, he'd be _so_ out there.

"I'm bored, man," he said, leaning away from the window. "Are we almost there?"

"How're we supposed ta bloody know?" Demo asked, flinging his hands in the air.

"Yhrr khhdd rhssk Rrnjr," Pyro said. He pointed over to where Engineer was sitting with Medic and Heavy, deep in conversation. Medic looked a lot less bitchy than he had earlier (Engineer seemed to have that effect on people) so Scout thought it was safe to hazard an interruption.

"Yo, hardhat!" he called. Somewhere to his left, Sniper was jolted awake with a snort. "Are we almost there?"

Both Engineer and Medic looked at Scout disapprovingly before casting exasperated glances at each other.

"Does it look like I'm flyin' this thing, boy?" Engineer said.

"C'mon, man, just answer the question, I'm dyin' over here!"

Engineer sighed and rubbed at his temple, but said, "Yeah, we'll be there in just a few minutes. Now quiet down, would ya? Some of us are tryin' to sleep."

"Sweet!" Scout said. He turned back to Demoman and Pyro, missing the apologetic look Sniper got from Engineer. He did, however, get a glimpse of Spy sniggering at the Australian's lopsided sunglasses, and Scout himself couldn't suppress a snort either.

Apparently, in Engineer speak, "a few minutes" really meant "half an hour." Scout didn't understand why he had been the only one to become so antsy. Too small a space, too much time, he guessed. He just wanted to run, stretch his legs. Even when the ship landed and connected to the hangar deck, he _still_ had to wait.

Despite his impatience, he stuck with his team and hauled around his belongings like the rest of them. They followed Engineer as he led them to the hub, pointing at things and wasting time explaining what they were and how they worked.

As far as Scout was concerned, Crater was just one big maze- twists and turns made out of metal and machinery. Wires and pipes adorned the walls, floor, and ceiling like Christmas decorations. The raised grate below their feet was the only thing keeping them from walking all over Crater's innards like they were a carpet. The imagery, coupled with the smell, made Scout feel rather uncomfortable. Somehow, despite whatever air freshener they'd saturated the air with, he could still pick out the scents of oil, grease, and metal. It was an awkward blend of smells that was already beginning to grate on his nose.

The team passed door after door, each one of them closed and locked, until Scout eventually heard Engineer mention something about key cards and how everyone would be getting one.

"Ain't it a bit weird for _all_ the doors to be locked, though?" Sniper asked with a yawn, catching Scout's attention. "S'not like there's anyone to keep out."

"I was wondering about that myself," Spy admitted.

"Yeah, I suppose it's a bit strange," Engineer replied, glancing at them over his shoulder. "But it's probably just protocol. RED likes to keep its secrets safe, after all." No one had much to say to that, but skepticism hung over them like a cloud. Once or twice, Scout thought he heard something shuffle behind one of the doors, but it was probably just a rat. ...Were there rats in space? A space rat, then.

Overall, Crater was complicated- a lot harder to understand than Teufort- but it also had a better view, and Scout found that he could effectively drown out Engineer's voice by gazing out whatever windows they passed. He could just imagine himself out there, bounding and leaping without being dragged down by gravity.

As they delved further into the base, however, the windows disappeared altogether and Scout had to find a new way to distract himself; namely, by studying his teammates to see if they were just as bored as he was. He examined them, tried to imagine what was in the bags slung over their shoulders or hanging by their sides. (He thought he could make out a book in Sniper's bag. Was it porn? Scout thought so.) But his eyes kept going back to Medic. Strong, sadistic, scary Medic who was now fidgeting with his hands and glancing every which way as he walked. Even for someone like Medic, his movements were subtle, but Scout was able to pick up that something was bothering him. As Scout watched the doctor, his ears picked up Soldier's voice, muttering to Demoman.

"No matter how many times I told him, he didn't listen. I told him we shouldn't come here because I _didn't like it_ and I _still_ don't like it but he didn't _listen_."

Medic's fingers pulled at his glove and let go with a snap.

They passed another door- something thumped behind it- there was something on his shoulder-

"_Shit!_" Scout spun around and threw his fist, his eyes squeezed shut. His knuckles hit something soft; fleshy underneath some sort of thick skin-

He opened his eyes and saw Pyro rubbing his shoulder.

"Rrrw!" he said, recoiling. "Rrh whzz jzz trrngh trrh... Yhrr drrbht thzz." Heart still hammering, Scout looked down. Pyro was holding out Scout's baseball.

"Oh," Scout said stupidly. "Thanks." He stuffed the ball back in his bag and turned around, expecting the group to have made some distance without him; but no, they were all standing right there, staring at him, some with irritation, others mockingly. Scout felt his face begin to heat up.

"Everything all right there, son?" Engineer asked, an amused smile creeping about his face.

"M'fine," Scout said quickly, resisting the urge to punch him. "Let's just keep walking, a'ight?"

"You gave Doktor quite a scare!" Heavy said with that booming laugh of his. "I did not know he could jump that high."

Medic shot him an appalled look. "Not right now, Heavy-"

"The Scout has got the right idea, boys!" Soldier interrupted. "He doesn't like this whole fiasco either!"

"Yeah, whatever, can we just keep _going_?"

Eventually, the group continued their walk to the hub, and Scout decided to stay _behind_ the rest of them. If he lost one of his things again, he'd just have to come back and find it later. He wasn't going to risk humiliation again. Once they reached the hub, Engineer gave them a quick introduction, but Scout couldn't be bothered to pay attention. When the Texan showed them into the crew's quarters, Scout clambered into one of the top bunks and buried his face in the pillow, ignoring its old, musty scent.

"After we all get settled in, meet me in the hub if you're interested in taggin' along for the first checkup."

Yeah, like Scout was going to do anything with anyone for the rest of the day. At least, that was what he thought, until he sifted through his bag and noticed that the picture of his ma he'd stuffed in at the last moment was missing. Hell, it looked like he'd be going back out there after all.


	3. Chapter 2

A few minutes later, Scout stomped into the hub, hands shoved in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Engineer was sitting at the large, round table in the center of the room, waiting patiently. Apart from Scout, Pyro was the only other person there. He was in the chair next to Engineer, twiddling his thumbs and humming a theme from one of his dorky television shows. He seemed excited- at least, as far as Scout could tell.

"Didn't think _you'd_ be joinin' us," Engineer said with a smile. The gratitude in his voice _almost_ gave Scout second thoughts on wanting to punch him. Almost.

"I'm not comin' 'cause I think it'll be fun or nothin'," Scout said, crossing his arms. "I just- uh- gotta do somethin'."

Engineer's face fell slightly. "And what, pray tell, is so important that you'd willingly accompany us on somethin' so mind-numbingly borin'?"

Scout hated Engineer sometimes. Sure, he hated everyone at some point, but he was probably the only person who could hate kind, calm Engineer. It was his perceptiveness, most likely; the way he _knew_ things he shouldn't have, like he was in Scout's _mind._ It drove Scout crazy sometimes.

"None o' your business," he grunted. Engineer raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Ok, ok, I dropped somethin', awight? I gotta find it." Something that sounded like a chuckle emanated from Pyro's gas mask. Scout would have told him where to get off had the door to the crew's quarters not opened at that precise moment, revealing a grinning Demoman.

"Now wait just a minute, lads," he said, raising a finger quite matter-of-factly. Scout sniggered; judging by the half-empty bottle of scrumpy in his right hand, the Scot was obviously drunk. But when wasn't he?

"Yes, Demo?" Engineer said, the slightest of impatience creeping into his voice.

"I'm your friend, ain't I?" Demoman continued with a hand over his heart. "And as your friend, t'would be irresponsible to leave ye with the two wee lads. If ye are a lad," he added, sending a sloppy wink Scout's way.

Scout spluttered. "The hell's that s'posed ta-"

"Son, I don't think he meant to direct that at you," Engineer cut in quickly. Pyro chuckled again. Meanwhile, Demoman was still babbling.

"So as I were sayin'," he continued, "I'll be accompanyin' you four." He paused. "Three."

"Alright, but don't go getting' yourself into trouble, now," Engineer said warningly. "RED wouldn't appreciate that an' neither would I."

Scout surprised himself by recognizing the irony in Demoman's eagerness to help; if that was what irony was. Maybe he was thinking of a hyperbole, or an onomonopia. Omonotapia. Onomatopia? Screw it.

After they each took a keycard from the table (_I'm gonna end up losin' this,_ Scout thought vaguely), the four of them left the hub in an odd sort of line. Engineer led the way, with Demoman stumbling along by his side. Scout hovered in the middle, zigzagging through the hallway in search of his photo. Pyro took up the back, though he tended to stick close to Scout; or Engineer when Scout was moving too quickly.

_Bastard's prob'ly scared outta his mind,_ Scout thought with a snigger. _Serves him right._

A short while later, Engineer stopped them in a wide, dimly lit room. Motors growled in all directions and a long conveyer belt sat still and unused against the far wall. Dull lamps hung from the ceiling , casting a hazy purple glow across the machinery. Scout could have sworn he had seen them sway despite the stale air. It smelled rotten; he didn't like it.

"Well, this here's today's room," Engineer said proudly, hands on his hips. Right, like that creepfest was a place to be proud of.

"Man, it reeks in here," Scout whined. He jumped slightly when his voice bounced off the walls, as if he was standing underneath a large bell.

"Dunno wotcher talkin' aboot," Demoman chuckled. "I doon't smell a thing."

Pyro nodded in agreement. "Rrh krrn't smrhh rht, rrthrh."

"O' course you can't, ya retards! You're wearin' that stupid freakin' mask and he's-"

"Alright, boys, that's enough," Engineer scolded. The room fell eerily quiet, save for Pyro's filtered breathing and Demoman's erratic hiccuping. "Now, we have ourselves a job to do. If you three wanna have your little manly quarrel, I suggest you take it to the hallway."

"No thanks, m'good," Demoman said.

"Yeah, well, I didn't wanna stay in here with you bunch o' losers, anyway," Scout said, turning on his heels. "I got more important crap ta be doin'."

He was halfway to the door when Engineer sighed and said, "Py, would you mind goin' with him? I'm not too fond o' the idea of Scout runnin' amok up here, but I'm not gonna stop 'im from findin' whatever it is he's lookin' for."

"Hrkhrr, Rh ghss," Pyro muttered with a shrug.

"Thanks, pardner. I owe ya one."

Pyro waved goodbye before trotting after Scout, who had already shoved his keycard into the slot and was trudging away from the conveyer belt room.

"Whrrt!" Pyro called, the door zipping shut behind him. Scout barely looked over his shoulder at him. Perfect; out of all the people Scout had to be stuck alone with in one of these creepy hallways- Not that Scout was scared, or anything, because he totally wasn't. It would take more than a few space rats to get his nerves on edge.

Pyro trailed after him for a moment, observing the way his eyes flicked over every inch of the floor. Scout could almost hear their shoes tapping against the grate over the constant thought buzzing about his head: What if his photo had fallen through the grate? It had been folded over a few times, so the possibility wasn't out of the question. If it _had_ slipped through then it was probably lost underneath all those pipes, and there was no way Scout could fit his hand down there.

"Crap," he muttered.

Pyro hesitated. "Whht rrh wrh lrrhkng fhrr hgnh?"

Scout sighed in frustration. "A picture of my ma," he said, pausing momentarily to further inspect the floor. "An' it's all folded up, so findin' it's gonna be a bitch."

"Whrr rrh wrh grhnrh lhhk?"

"Uh, where we've already been, I guess? Let's just shut up an' start lookin', awight?"

Pyro gave a quick nod and then they were off.

It was difficult, trying to retrace your steps when everywhere looked the same. Maybe he should have gotten a map or something, like the one Engineer had. Without that sort of help, Scout found that he was walking aimlessly, just _waiting_ for what he wanted to come to him. He knew that wasn't realistic, and it irked him. He just wanted to get this done, that was all. And Pyro, the silent wonder, wasn't being much help back there. At least Scout could tell by his steady footsteps that he was keeping up.

"Damnit!" Scout said, curling his hands into fists. "We've looked everywhere, but nothin'." He gave Pyro a few seconds to, maybe, _reply_, maybe share his frustration a little, but nothing; the douchebag was probably ignoring him or something stupid. "Hey, you sure you didn't see nothin'?" Scout asked impatiently. Still no answer. "awight, that's it." He spun around, sneering-

There was no one there.

Scout's expression slowly fell; his words died in his throat. No one there. He quickly looked behind him. Just empty hallway. In front again. _Empty._

"Yo, Pyro?" he called. God damnit, his voice was shaking, why was his voice shaking?

Pyro was an ok guy, he wouldn't pull this. He had a keycard. He could have just slipped into one of the rooms.

But Scout hadn't heard a door open. It was so quiet, he would have heard it. The footsteps- Pyro had been _right behind him._

"Pyro!" (_Just empty hallway_) "Man, if this had to do with the whole baseball thing earlier, this ain't funny!" If Pyro thought it was funny, Scout couldn't hear him laughing.

And then that thought was back again, buzzing around, buzzing like a fly. _What if it fell through the grate_? But that was stupid, Pyro wouldn't be down there; not unless he had been chopped up into little pieces...

Scout looked down anyway.

There was something there, in between the pipes. Scout lowered himself onto his hands and knees, eyes straining to get a better glimpse. But he couldn't- not past this _buzzing_ in his _head_. (_The grate- what if it fell through?_)

But it _had_ fallen through; or something had, at least. It was right _there_, if only Scout could see it...

Suddenly, a string of noises behind him jerked him back into reality and drove the buzzing from his head. The noises, they were footsteps, racing closer. Well, he _was_ on the floor, whoever it was was probably worried.

"I'm fine, I didn't fall or nothin'," Scout said, looking over his shoulder.

_Just an empty hallway_. Scout felt his stomach sink. The footsteps pattered closer, closer, _closer_, until they stopped. Directly to his left. The wall. Then he heard the scratching.

There was something in the wall.

The buzzing was back, only this time, it said, "Run." Scout scrambled to his feet and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him. He subconsciously muttered curses between gasps of air as he ran. Back to Demoman, back to Engineer, back, he had to get _back_.

And somehow, he made it back. The word "instinct" crossed his mind, but he paid it no attention. Engineer and Demoman were nowhere to be seen, probably because they'd already finished their job; the conveyer belt had started up and was creeping by with steady thunks. Different motors were whining in the background now. They were loud- irritating, even- but Scout was watching the conveyer belt. It was all he could hear. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Something dark had spilled over its surface and was dripping onto the floor as it moved by. Something wet, something acrid. Scout wished he could move, so he could have plugged his nose, covered his eyes, turned away, _anything_. Drip, thunk, drip, drip, thunk.

Then something else was coming along, something bigger. It sat there as it passed Scout, a horrible lumpy mass of flesh and guts, and a name briefly passed his lips before it tore from his throat and lost all shape.

Out in the hall, Engineer heard Scout scream before he dashed back to the conveyer belt room.


	4. Chapter 3

Engineer couldn't decide which was worse: The horror on Scout's pale face and the terrified tears pooling in his eyes, or the jumbled mound of barely recognizable limbs and innards that was still passing slowly by. Engineer could see it—a frail pulsating—just underneath the thin strips of flesh. There was a heart somewhere underneath that mess—a real, live heart—and it was still beating. Whatever had happened, whatever this _was_, had been set in motion only moments ago. _Moments_. The sudden nausea that overtook Engineer made him clutch his stomach.

The room was eerily quiet as they watched _it_ travel along into the shaft, dragging what looked like an intestine along the side of the belt and leaving an ugly red smear. Only after it moved behind the wall and out of sight did Scout seem to find his voice.

"Jesus Christ," he said softly. The delicacy with which he spoke unnerved Engineer.

Cautiously, he ventured closer to Scout, hands held out placatingly. It would be better for both of them if they got out of there, and fast. "C'mon, son, it's alright," he murmured. He set a hand on the boy's shoulder; Scout didn't pull away—he didn't even move.

"Jesus Christ, he's dead," Scout spluttered. "He's dead, Pyro's dead, all cut up an' _dead._"

At Pyro's name, Engineer's gaze twisted around to where the dark streak stretched across the metal of the conveyer belt. Before he could talk any sense into himself, a new bout of nausea hit him like a wave. He had to wrench his eyes away before the lump in his throat became something worse.

"Hell," he muttered. His fingers constricted around Scout's bony shoulder. "Son, we need to get you back to the hub—"

"Holy shit, he's so dead. Completely dead. Oh my God, it... it killed him."

"Scout—"

"It killed him, Jesus Christ, he's- he's dead, what're we gonna do-"

"Dagnabbit, Scout," Engineer grunted. He couldn't stand to be there any longer—they had to get out before the stench drove them both mad.

With a firm grip on Scout's shoulder, Engineer steered him from the conveyer belt room. Scout had grown silent again, arms wrapped tight around his chest and eyes glued to the floor. Engineer didn't make a habit of snooping in other people's business, but he knew Scout and Pyro had been on friendly terms. Hell, with Pyro? Everyone was. He had felt almost like a little brother to Engineer, despite how little he actually knew about the the boy. To Engineer, the entire team was a family, whether they wanted to be or not. Engineer felt a sudden surge of appreciation for Scout and relaxed his grip on his shoulder, moving his hand to rest on his back.

"It'll be alright, Scout," he said softly. Scout gave a noncommittal grunt.

By the time they finally arrived at the hub, Scout was clutching his stomach. Engineer couldn't blame him; if _he_ had seen as much as Scout had, he'd be in the same position.

As hastily as he could, he pulled his keycard from his pocket and slid it through the sensor, nearly dropping it in the process. The door slid open, revealing their teammates gathered around the center table, playing what looked like a very violent game of chess. They froze, their smiles and snarls shaping into curious frowns, the second they noticed the return of their Engineer and Scout. Medic was the first on his feet; the alarmed look on his face didn't help Engineer's nerves any.

"What happened?" he asked urgently, lifting up Scout's head with a gloved hand.

"I'm... not exactly sure, Doc," Engineer said quietly. Their audiencestared in stunned silence, unsure of what to do. Spy was watching as well, but he was a bit harder to read.

"Are you hurt?" Medic demanded.

Engineer shook his head. "No, I don't think so, but Scout-"

"I know, Herr Engineer, we vill discuss him soon," Medic snapped. He turned to the rest of the team. "Excuse us for one moment, please. This won't take long."

"What is wrong with little Scout?" Heavy asked, worry wrinkling his forehead.

"Nothing, Heavy, he just needs bed rest," Medic said. He began to pull Scout toward the crew's quarters as the team exchanged confused glances.

"Oi, he didn't need bed rest this mornin'!" Sniper said.

Spy rolled his eyes. "He also wasn't in space this morning," he quipped.

"Oh, you just have to go pickin' fights every chance you get, don't you?"

"Only with you, _mate_."

Engineer hurried after Medic and Scout before the fists started flying. Scout was sitting on one of the beds, already looking less pale now that he was in the doctor's attention. Medic was standing directly in front of him a grave look upon his lined face.

"Sit down, Engineer," he said. Engineer obeyed quietly, sitting next to Scout, to avoid upsetting Medic further. He knew that tone; something was wrong.

"So what's goin' on, Doc?" he asked carefully.

"You must tell me everything," Medic demanded. "What did you see?"

The question caught Engineer off guard. "... 'See', Doc?"

"Do you not understand zis word?" Medic snapped. "Ja, _see_. With your eyes. What did you _see_?"

But there had been nothing _to_ see, nothing except poor Pyro's mutilated, gushing corpse-

"It was in the walls, man," Scout said suddenly, surprising Engineer, "Followin' us. It got Pyro, an' then it came back for me."

Medic's intense stare flickered into a startled look. "What? The Pyro is dead?"

Engineer nodded solemnly. "S'a cryin' shame, too. The thing that's botherin' me is wonderin' what on earth happened. If he got stuck in one o' the machines and it sliced him up, we need to rope that area off an'-"

"Stop talking, please," Medic interrupted. He lowered himself onto one knee, matching his line of sight with Scout's. "Tell me exactly what happened," he said, softly but sternly.

"Now, Doc, let's be reasonable," Engineer said carefully. "Scout's confused. He's had one hell of a day, he ain't thinkin' straight. Give him a day to rest, at least."

"Engineer, if you interrupt again, I vill have to continue this examination elsewhere," Medic said. "Who was following you, Scout?"

"Doc, I'm sorry, but you know as well as I do we're the only ones up here."

Medic gave a loud sigh of frustration and rose to his feet, glaring at Engineer. "Fine, then," he growled. "Scout and I will be in the infirmary. If you need something, send Heavy." In one swift movement, he yanked Scout from the bed and swept from the room with an angry flourish, leaving Engineer quite alone. (_Alone, just like Pyro had been before he died?_)

Engineer heaved a sigh and lowered his head onto the pillow, letting his eyes slide shut. One day; they'd only been up there for _one day_ and now this. It was partially his own fault, too; for being so willing to accept the job, for building the place to begin with. He should have persuaded RED to make the base a little safer, at least. Getting diced by one of the machines you were supposed to be maintaining; what a way to go. But then again, something about that didn't seem right. Engineer was no detective, but something was off; he was overlooking something-

"Engie?"

Engineer's eyes flung open in surprise. He turned his head, hoping to see that Medic had returned with his conclusion, but the thought was only halfhearted; Medic didn't entertain the idea of nicknames, after all. Instead, Engineer found Soldier cautiously observing him from the doorway, helmet in hands.

"Hell, Soldier, you startled me," Engineer said, chuckling good-naturedly. He had been looking forward to a good, thoughtless nap, but he couldn't very well yell at Soldier, not after their friendship had grown like it had. Besides, considering how much time he spent reminding Soldier not to shout over trifles, that would have been hypocritical of him.

"I thought you were asleep," Soldier said, then mumbled, "Didn't want to wake you up."

Engineer couldn't help but smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, but fallin' asleep ain't gonna be as easy as jus' shuttin' my eyes anymore. At least not for a while." He sat up and rested his back against the cool metal wall. "An' even then, I don't expect I'll like the nightmares any."

"What happened out there, Engie?" Soldier asked, quietly moving forward and sitting on the bed next to Engineer. "I saw the Scout. A man doesn't look like that unless he's seen something."

"T'be honest, I ain't sure I'm even rememberin' it right anymore. It went by so fast."

"Avoiding the question won't change what happened. Spit it out," Soldier said sternly.

"Pyro's dead, Soldier," Engineer said. "Probably got caught in a machine and it sliced him up."

(_Something's off_)

"Dead?" Soldier repeated. His brow became furrowed and the lines in his aged face darkened, making them more prominent. Engineer could see through a thin gap between his lips that he was grinding his teeth.

"I just can't believe somethin' like this would happen, and to Pyro, too." Engineer lifted a hand to his face and began massaging the bridge of his nose.

"He was a good comrade," Soldier muttered, turning his eyes toward the ground.

A few moments of silence passed, which Engineer was grateful for. Just saying it out loud- Pyro was _dead_- was like signing the poor boy's death warrant. It had shattered any feeble hope he had had of it being false. It had shattered his silence. Everything was buzzing; his mind was filled with the same thoughts.

_Pyro is dead. It's my fault. Dead, all cut up an' dead. What if it fell through the grate?-_

"I told you, Engie." Soldier's voice cut through Engineer's thoughts like a knife, startling him, making his eyes snap back into focus. "I told you about this place."

Engineer hesitated. (_All cut up an' dead_) "... Yeah, I know you did."

Soldier looked down into his helmet, as though he'd find something useful to say inside. He must have been out of luck because he turned his head up toward the bottom of the top bunk and remained silent. Engineer appreciated the attempt, all the same. It was comforting to know he had a softer side, even if Engineer was the only one to see it.

"I just need somethin' to keep my mind off... what happened," Engineer mused quietly. "We all do, 'specially poor Scout."

"If you need any help, I'm your man," Soldier said. His hand touched his forehead in a salute, eliciting a genuine smile from Engineer. Loyal to the end; that was his Soldier.

"You might not let other folks see it," Engineer murmured, "But you've got one heck of a heart." Soldier looked like he wanted to protest, which made Engineer chuckle, but-

_The heart._ Dead- sliced- machine- beating- all cut up an' dead- _the heart._

"Well I'll be," Engineer breathed. "His heart was still beatin'." Soldier watched in confusion as the gears in the Texan's brain spun, stringing together every bit of information- and the one fact he'd overlooked in his shock. "Somethin' so meticulous- The rest of him was all cut up, couldn't even recognize him-" He was rambling now, getting everything out, trying to make sense of it. Then it clicked. "By God," he said. Something so carefully executed- preserving the heart- while the rest of Pyro had been nearly indistinguishable...

"Soldier," Engineer said, "I think Pyro might've been murdered."

* * *

Scout's hands were in his lap as he sat on the examination table, watching warily as Medic tapped his chin in thought. "Can I go now, Doc?" Scout asked, jabbing his finger in the door's direction.

"Yes, yes," Medic said distractedly, "But get yourself something to eat. You need your strength."

Scout jumped from the table, landing deftly on his feet. "Yeah, alright." It was difficult to tell if he had been paying any attention, however; he was staring at the door with a different kind of anxiety now.

"What are you waiting for?" Medic asked with a sneer. "Someone to hold your hand?"

Scout shuffled his feet. "Actually..."

Medic sighed in frustration and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Dummkopf." Despite his irritation, he moved to the intercom mounted on the wall and held his finger against the button. "Heavy, I need you in the infirmary," he said. He glanced at Scout, who was staring at the door as though Pyro's bloody, revenge-thirsty ghost would float through any moment. "Now, please," Medic added. He released the button and, a few seconds later, Heavy's loud voice came through the speaker, tainted by light static.

"Da, I will be there," he said, sounding cheerful. When Medic turned back to Scout, the boy's mouth was nearly curved in a grin.

"Yeah, good call there, Doc," he said. "Nothin'll come after me if I've got him."

Medic considered reminding him that Heavy was more than a meat shied, but he settled for a noncomittal grunt.

To make it clear he wasn't interested in further conversation, Medic began searching for his notepad and pen in the clutter that covered his desk. But who was he kidding? It wasn't a desk; it was half a table that had been bolted to the wall. He didn't even have the luxury of a chair. The entire infirmary seemed to follow suit in a similar lackluster fashion. It was smaller than the one back at Teufort; less cabinet space had forced him to unload many of his belongings onto his "desk," which clearly wasn't spacious enough for all of it. Medic was willing to cope only because he found that the room had been well stocked- but even then, he still worried that it wouldn't be enough... considering the circumstances.

Finally, he fished out his pen and notebook just as a strong knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Medic said, turning his head. A moment later, the door slid open and Heavy squeezed himself through the door frame.

"Jeez, took you long enough," Scout said impatiently.

"Little Scout is better now?" Heavy asked.

"All he needs now is rest," Medic said. "Would you take him back to the hub for me? He is too afraid to go on his own."

"Am not."

"Scout is afraid of noises in walls?" Heavy inquired.

"Am not!"

Heavy chuckled. "You should not be afraid of them. They are just noises."

"Heavy is right, Scout," Medic said gravely. "There is no one here, other than us."

"Then who did Pyro in, huh?" Scout protested. "'Cause hardhat's wrong- ain't no machine that did this, we were bein' _followed_-"

"You have already told me what you think happened, I do not need to hear it again," Medic grumbled. "Heavy, just make sure Scout makes it to a bed without getting lost."

"I will try, Doktor," Heavy said with a grin. Scout had already bounded out the door and Heavy was fitting himself through when Medic spoke again.

"Could you come back here when you are finished?" he asked softly. "There is something I must take care of."

Heavy smiled. "Of course, Doktor." Then he was out in the hall, Scout tagging along beside him. The door slid shut, and then- sweet silence.

Sighing, Medic opened to the first page in his notebook, jotted down the date, and began his entry in a careful scrawl; in English, at RED's request.

_We have had our first casualty,_ he wrote. _The Pyro died roughly half an hour ago. Witnesses say the body was in pieces, nearly unrecognizable. I must conduct my own research to come up with a more accurate interpretation of what might have happened. Engineer believes that Pyro's death was an accident. Let him continue believing it._

He set his pen down and reread what he had written. Informative, like RED wanted, but just enough to keep others wondering, should nosy fingers pry. That was why Medic preferred writing in German: there was a smaller opportunity for people to encroach on his privacy.

From the quiet of the infirmary, Medic could hear Heavy approaching outside, humming a tune. Medic hurriedly shoved his notebook underneath a short pile of books before Heavy knocked lightly on the door.

"Doktor," he called.

"Ja, one moment, please," Medic said. He yanked open a nearby drawer and pulled out the polished instrument sitting quite purposefully atop all the others: his bonesaw. He let his fingers slip comfortably into their usual hold before he tucked it away inside his coat. It felt reassuring there, bumping against his ribcage like an oversized gun. He only hoped that he wouldn't have to use it. He gave the bonesaw a single pat through his coat to make sure it was in place, then joined Heavy out in the hall.

"Forgive ze wait, I was finishing up my report on the Scout," Medic said.

"Is not a problem," Heavy said with a smile. "Doktor has things to do. I can wait."

With some difficulty, Medic let his face relax into a smile. "And I appreciate you all the more for that."

"So what are we doing now?" Heavy asked.

"First thing first, we must find and examine the Pyro's remains." Medic huffed and rubbed his temple. "According to ze Scout, it happened in a room with a conveyer belt. That would be this way. Follow me." Medic had hardly taken his first step before he added, "And stay close to me, please."

Heavy chuckled. "Do not tell me Doktor is afraid of the noises as well."

"Terrified of them, actually," Medic replied frankly. Whether Heavy recognized his honesty or not, he smiled and rested a hand on the small of Medic's back as they walked.

"Then I will make sure that they cannot hurt you," he murmured. Nevermind how close Heavy's hand had landed next to the hidden bonesaw; the reassurance Medic felt was worth it.

But as they walked, the walls were silent. Medic could hear their shoes tapping against the floor, Heavy's steady, deep breathing, his own heart pounding- but where were the noises? The scratching, the hissing, the breathing? Medic wasn't comforted by their absence; rather, it chilled him.

_Are they watching?_ Medic thought, his eyes shifting about the walls. _Are they waiting?_ To Scout, he had said, "There is no one here." He wished he could believe that himself.

"Here we are," Medic said once they reached the right room. His voice was amplified by the silence of the corridor, the sound of fear echoing among the anticipating. Somewhat conveniently, the door had remained unlocked after Engineer and Scout's hasty retreat, and it slid open automatically when Heavy and Medic approached it. At once, a dimming stench flooded Medic's nose; Pyro had indeed been here.

"The conveyer belt must have taken the remains to another room," Medic observed quietly, noticing how the belt continued through the wall.

"Then we will follow it," Heavy said. "Is not hard." His hand left Medic's back as he moved away, heading for the exit. Medic made to follow him, but something stopped him. _Scratching_. On the other side of that door- the door that Heavy was approaching- and Christ, it was going to open automatically- shuffling, tapping, _wheezing_. Medic could hear the long draws of breath, felt them echo hollowly in his chest.

"Heavy," Medic spluttered, "No, vait-"

Too late. The door slid open with a hiss- Medic fumbled for his bonesaw- the room began to spin-

"It think you were right," Heavy muttered, pinching his nose. "It smells worse in here."

Nothing. Just the same stillness. The silence had returned.

Heavy turned around, and a frown appeared on his face when he saw Medic, looking rather pale and clutching his bonesaw by his side. "Doktor," Heavy said sadly, "You did not have to bring that. You know I will protect you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," Medic sighed. The corners of his lips curved into a slight smile. "But sometimes, I am not the one I worry about." Heavy could do little more than grin in return before Medic tugged him through the door.

_I'm not going crazy, am I?_ Medic wondered, shooting a glance behind them- just in case. _This is merely a classic case of paranoia. Pyro's death is getting to me. I need to stay logical._ But reason said the atmosphere was dark, dank, and intimidating, that it reeked of death, and that he had every right to be concerned.

The conveyer belt ended here, about halfway into the room before it doubled over and ran back through the wall. There was something- a shapeless lump near the foot of the belt, slightly slouched over as if it had been dumped there. Medic's best guess was that it was Pyro, but it was too dark to tell from where he stood.

"I will have to speak with Engineer about ze light fixtures," he muttered crossly. He approached the lump wearily, staring at its silhouette as if daring it to move, just to justify his fears. But it didn't move; it didn't even twitch. Medic garnered his courage and moved closer.

"This is Pyro?" Heavy asked quietly.

Medic tugged his gloves down a little tighter and lowered himself onto his knees. "We will see."

Whoever it was, it had once been alive. Medic recognized the signs; the colors, the smells, the fluids- all except for one. Very carefully, as if handling something precious, he ran his finger through the thin gray film that covered the mass of flesh. When he lifted his finger away, a thin string stretched from the flesh to his glove.

"That is not blood," Heavy observed, nonplussed.

"This fluid does not belong in the human body," Medic said, eyes narrowed. He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together, watching as the gooey substance slid across the rubber of his glove.

This proved him right, then, didn't it? The presence of an unexplained, inhuman bodily fluid confirmed his hypothesis- not that he'd ever really doubted it. Regardless, he had been correct; all the more reason to be unsettled.

Medic continued to poke and prod, making note of anything that stood out, every little detail. Heavy stood a little ways away, reluctant to watch. As much as Medic wanted to prove he wasn't digging through Pyro's remains, there was no evidence to suggest otherwise. A typical piece of intestine here and a fraction of normal stomach there wasn't enough to tell him anything he needed to know. He was able to identify most of the organs, including the heart, which was in surprisingly good shape. He was considering heading back to the infirmary, until a sizeable chunk of lung compelled him to examine it further.

"Heavy," Medic said, holding the organ higher so the other man could see, "Do you know what is wrong with zis lung?"

Heavy leaned forward to scrutinize it, despite looking rather clueless. "No," he said, then looked up at Medic questioningly. "Nothing?"

"Precisely," Medic said with a grin. "This lung shows no traces of smoke damage. Contrarily, the Pyro's lungs were considerably damaged."

"So Pyro is still alive?" Heavy asked.

Medic frowned. "Not exactly. This only means that his actual lungs are somewhere else. But there would be no point in killing him and going through all zis trouble just for his lungs... If this lung is not his, I highly doubt that the rest of this," -he gestured at the tangle of flesh- "belongs to him as well."

Medic has expected Heavy to be pleased but instead, a look of concern had appeared on his face. "Doktor," he said softly, "You think Pyro was killed?"

Medic blanched. Had he let that slip? He had, hadn't he. How could he be so careless? It was too late now that Heavy knew; the time for smoothing things over had passed.

"Ja, I think that it is likely," he murmured, tossing the lung back onto the other organs. "Although it looks messy, it is actually very precise. Everything is in pieces, except for the heart. It was untouched. A machine couldn't do that on its own."

"But who killed him?" Heavy asked as Medic looked away. "It wasn't one of us, was-"

"I think we should be heading back now," Medic interrupted. He rose swiftly to his feet again, tugged off his soiled gloves, and slipped them into his front pocket. When he glanced at Heavy, he found a severe frown on the Russian's face.

"But Doktor, this is important," he said.

"Maybe we will talk later," Medic muttered, "But now is not ze time."

Though Heavy still seemed reluctant, he followed as Medic moved for the door. Medic himself couldn't help but feel slightly guilty; for all the good Heavy had done for him, Medic couldn't even tell him the truth, that they were all risking their lives by being there. Medic didn't believe that wishing was capable of solving anything but in that moment, he found himself wishing that he could tell everyone otherwise and so they could all just go home...

"Doktor," Heavy said, once they were back in the corridor, "If that was not Pyro, who was it?"

"I don't know," Medic replied. "But there are only so many people it could be."

An honest answer; finally.

* * *

It was quiet back in the crew's quarters. Engineer hadn't decided how he was going to break the news to his fellow teammates; minus Heavy and Medic, of course, since they hadn't come back yet.

His discovery had led to another realization, unfortunately, one that made him wonder if he should spread the news at all. There was a limited number of people in the base. Eight people, including himself. That didn't leave much room for debate concerning the murderer's identity. As horrible as the mere notion of it was, it had to be one of them. There was no other possibility.

After his initial epiphany, he'd asked Soldier to wait for him out in the hub and everyone about Pyro. That meant that as long as no one had left in since he was last out there, Scout, Soldier, Sniper, Demoman, and Spy would be his first audience. Were they murderers? Would they kill one of their own teammates? Sniper- maybe, on a particularly bad day, and with reason. Scout was obviously ruled out. Demoman was as well, considering he'd been with Engineer at the time. Engineer didn't like to think it but if pushed too far, Soldier was capable of causing mishaps. He had less trouble picturing Spy as the killer, but Spy wouldn't be so barbaric and, as far as Engineer knew, didn't have anything against Pyro. It was no use lying to himself; he didn't suspect any of them. He _couldn't_. Engineer groaned as he stood from the bed. Whether he thought of them as killers or not, they had to know.

Everyone was minding their own business when he entered the hub. Soldier turned away from his conversation with Demoman and met Engineer's gaze immediately, looking expectant. Scout was sitting at the center table, staring at the small package of crackers in front of him. Spy and Sniper were nowhere to be seen. (_Did this cast suspicion on them?_)

Engineer cleared his throat. "'Scuse me, fellas, I got somethin' y'all need to hear." At his voice, Demoman and Scout looked up, but he could only hold their attention for a moment. Something behind him had captivated them and widened their eyes. Demoman's whisper of "bloody hell," was enough to get Soldier to start staring, too. Engineer felt a pang of anxiety rack his body; what would he see when he turned around? Spy and Sniper, soaked in blood and cradling the heads of Medic and Heavy?

He turned quickly, expecting the worst- not expecting what he saw. There, hunched over, wheezing, and slick with blood, clutching a ragged ragged gash in his stomach, stood Pyro.


End file.
